“Our father! Is he—?”
“Ay. God have mercy on us!” said Mrs Jane gravely.
“Amen!” came through the closed door.
“Jenny, go back to my chamber,” said her mistress. “I will come to thee anon. The hardest of my work lieth afore me yet.”
For two hours all was haste and tumult in Bentley Hall. Then, when the soldiers had departed, carrying their prisoners with them, a hush almost like that of death fell upon the house.
Mrs Lane had wept till she had no more tears to shed; her daughter did not weep, but she looked very white and sad.
“Now you mark my words!” said Millicent to Jenny; “’tis that Jackson has done it. He’s played the traitor. Didn’t I always say he was a Roundhead! Depend upon it, he’s betrayed something the Colonel’s done in His Majesty’s service, and that’s why that wicked Parliament’s down on him. Robin, he says the same. He never did like that scheming black creature, and no more did I.”
“Well, I don’t know! He seemed a decent sort o’ man, far as I could see, only that he wasn’t well-favoured,” said Jenny doubtfully.
“He was a snake in the grass!” said Millicent solemnly; “and you’ll find that out, Jenny Lavender.”
To the surprise of the whole family, and themselves most of all, the prisoners were released after only four months’ detention. That was considered an exceedingly short business in 1652. Neither father nor son seemed any worse for their trial; the Roundheads, they said, had not treated them ill, and had even allowed sundry extra comforts to old Mr Lane.